


said i’d catch you if you fall

by vitale



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:08:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28615605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vitale/pseuds/vitale
Summary: “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Blue, but Lynchwon’ttalk to me.”The name feels like sandpaper on Adam’s tongue.“Then force him to talk to you.”Adam lets out an ugly noise somewhere between a snort and something a lot more miserable. “You can’tforceLynch to do anything. And I don’t see why it should be up to me to fix this.”Not that Adam is under any delusion that any of it can still be fixed.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 44
Kudos: 89





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi it’s me again! i’ve had this in my drafts for over a year and thought it was time to dust it off \o/  
> this is a bit different from what i usually do so i’m a bit Nervous but also excited! i think everyone is familiar with pacific rim but if you’re not i’m pretty sure you can still read this  
>   
> (if there’s already a pynch pacrim au i have not seen it, but every fandom deserves as many pacrim aus as people are willing to write for it)

Adam is twelve years old the first time he sees a Kaiju.

The thing is monstrous, at least forty feet tall with horns and claws and scales and more tails than Adam can count. Adam is shaking like a leaf, fear like ice crawling under his skin and burrowing into his bones, the kind of fear Adam, who is no stranger to the feeling, knows will haunt a man’s dreams for as long as he lives. Adam doesn’t know how long he’s been running, only that he can’t will his legs to push him forward anymore. The building he’s hiding behind is threatening to collapse on top of him, but Adam can’t move, can’t breathe, can only watch with his heart in his throat as the thing _—the thing that murdered his parents, the thing that has made him an orphan—_ throws its head back in a blood-curdling roar and resumes its destructive path towards him.

Adam knows in that instant, the thought crossing his mind with frightening clarity, that he won’t make it out alive without a miracle.

Adam remembers every second of it; one minute he’s alone and paralyzed with fear and convinced he’s going to die, and the next there’s an explosion in the sky. Little Adam watches with wide eyes as the Jaeger lands a few feet from him, like a mercy from above, like an answer to a prayer, and takes down the Kaiju in a blur of chaos Adam’s eyes can barely keep up with.

If there was ever a time in his life Adam had believed in God, it was the moment he stood in front of a Jaeger for the first time.

Later, after Adam is taken to the orphanage and he’s lying in his new bed in his new room and there’s nothing to distract him from the earth-shattering realization that he lost everything today and that his life will never be the same again, Adam makes a promise to himself that he’ll do everything in his power to ensure that he never has to feel so utterly _helpless_ and vulnerable again.

**✫✫✫✫**

Gansey has his _serious_ _face_ on when Adam knocks on his office door that morning, as Blue likes to call it when Gansey isn’t around. He absently gestures for Adam to take a seat as he mutters into the phone, face pinched in a way that tells Adam it isn’t a conversation he has any interest in sustaining. His hair is uncharacteristically unkempt and he looks like he hasn’t properly rested in a while, and Adam swallows down the urge to say something about it. Adam doesn’t call Gansey out on his less than healthy sleeping habits and Gansey doesn’t comment on some of Adam’s less than ideal coping mechanisms. That’s how their friendship works. They trust each other to know their own limits, and they both understand that sometimes they have no choice but to push those limits a little.

“You wanted to talk to me?” Adam asks a few minutes later when Gansey hangs up the phone. Gansey turns around and looks a little surprised to see him there, and Adam makes a mental note to rat him out to Blue so she can force him to get some sleep. Just because Adam and Gansey have an unspoken agreement not to coddle each other doesn’t mean Adam can’t snitch on him.

“Adam,” Gansey says agreeably. He sits down across from him and sets his glasses down on the desk, rubbing at his temples. He looks even more tired up-close. Adam gives him a sympathetic look; he can only imagine how overworked Gansey is these days and everything he’s had to deal with since the fall of Glendower.

When Richard Campbell Gansey III had fought tooth and nail to take over the Jaeger program at the absurdly young age of twenty one, very few people believed he could save it from its imminent demise. Adam, on the other hand, always believed Gansey could do about anything he put his mind to, and so it came to no surprise to him when Gansey exceeded all expectations and successfully gave a new breath to the program only a year after the takeover.

Adam doesn’t think Gansey was entirely ready for the responsibility and the pressure that came with it, though. It shows in the way he carries himself and the constant slump in his posture, like he’s bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders, or the way Gansey’s smile is just a little more subdued now than it used to be. But it’s _Gansey,_ and he’s the most capable person Adam has ever known, and if anyone can keep the world from falling apart in the face of the alien apocalypse, there is no doubt in Adam’s mind that no one else is more qualified for the job.

“You look like shit,” Adam says wryly. He takes care not to make it sound like a reproach.

Gansey lets out a chuckle. “I think I need a vacation.”

“Who was it?”

Gansey makes a face. “Please don’t ask.”

“Trouble?”

Gansey shrugs grimly.

And then he licks his lips and says, “Actually, that’s why you’re here.”

Adam arches a brow in question. Gansey clasps his hands in front of him and levels Adam with a look everyone who has known Gansey over any period of time is familiar with—patient, placating and just a little patronizing, which almost certainly means he’s unsure of how to broach the subject and is nervous about Adam’s reaction.

It also probably means Adam isn’t going to like it.

“We’re in a bit of a pickle.”

An understatement if there ever was one, considering he’s referring to an organization essentially geared towards defending the world from interdimensional alien beasts. Adam nods for him to go on.

Gansey clears his throat a little roughly. “We can’t keep going like this. Not with category fours coming out of the Breach faster than ever and the significant drop in the number of new recruits. We lost three pilots in the last eight months and Glendower and Psychic Danger are both out of commission. We can’t afford to hold back on any resources we have, and we can’t afford not to deploy our best Jaeger.”

Adam holds his breath.

Gansey gives him a meaningful look that says, _I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’m going to say it anyway._

“We need you back in the field.”

“I’m in the field,” Adam says automatically, like a learned reflex. Like a defense mechanism.

Gansey’s face does a funny thing, like he’s tired of Adam’s bullshit but is too polite to say it outright. Adam can’t exactly blame him, but he can’t do anything about it either.

He can only deflect until he can’t.

“It’s not like you to play stupid.”

Adam holds his gaze over the desk.

“We need you and Lynch back in the field.”

Adam’s hand twitches almost imperceptibly where it lays on the desk. Gansey has the grace to pretend not to notice.

Adam’s mouth is dry when he speaks. “We’re not drift compatible anymore, Gansey. You know this.”

“Adam, please.”

Gansey very clearly doesn’t care for such pathetic excuses, not when the fate of the world is at stake and the half a hundred people in the Jaeger program are the only thing standing between it and complete obliteration. Adam understands, possibly better than anyone, the gravity of the situation they are in and the growing sense of urgency that permeates everything they do as the world edges closer to destruction with every new Kaiju threat and every failed mission, but what Gansey fails to understand is that the decision is entirely out of Adam’s hands.

He didn’t have any say in the matter back then, and he certainly doesn’t now.

“Can’t you make an effort to fix it?”

Adam takes a deep breath, counts to five, and doesn’t snap at Gansey.

_As if that very same question hadn’t kept Adam up at night for the best part of a year._

But Gansey’s eyes are almost imploring, and Adam knows deep down that he would never put Adam in such a tight spot if he had any other option. Sadly for both of them, it doesn’t make Adam feel any better.

“Have you talked to—” Adam pauses. Doesn’t let himself break Gansey’s steady gaze. Doesn’t let himself feel embarrassed at not being able to say his name, either. “Have you talked to _him_ about this?”

Gansey’s lips curls into a wry smile. “Not yet. Thought you’d be easier to reason with.”

“Believe me, Gansey, I’m not the one who needs to be reasoned with.” He sounds bitter, the familiar mixture of anger and resentment bubbling just beneath the surface. Gansey’s expression turns sad. Adam can’t stand it. “Besides, I have a new co-pilot. I doubt Blue would be too happy about you trying to replace her.”

Gansey relaxes visibly at the mention of Blue. It would have amused Adam under any other circumstances. “She’ll understand.”

Adam knows she would. Him and Blue are good partners, great even—they have one of the highest numbers of kills in the last year and their mission success rate is better than most, only second to Cheng and Czerny. Drifting with Blue comes easy to Adam, but they both know as well as everyone else that it could never compare to what Adam had with his ex-partner. The reputation of the Cabeswater pilots precedes them for a reason, after all.

To this day, no one has ever come close.

“You can find him a new co-pilot.”

Gansey openly scoffs and Adam’s lips almost twitch into a humorless smile. Convincing Adam’s ex-partner to let someone into his head again would be no easier than finding two brand new pilots with enough talent and willpower to pilot Cabeswater.

Nevermind that he once let _Adam_ inside his head. Nevermind that they had one of the strongest connections the world had ever seen since the creation of the Jaeger program, or that they were still undefeated to this day, their records yet to be broken.

(Nevermind that Ronan Lynch had been the first person Adam had let inside _his_ head and that he still feels the loss of that connection like an open wound every time he steps inside a Jaeger.)

“You think I haven’t tried? He refuses to pilot again.”

“Well then, it’s a moot point, isn’t it?”

“I doubt we could find him a compatible drift partner anyway,” Gansey goes on as if Adam hadn’t said anything. “We don’t exactly get an abundance of new candidates these days, and I would rather not have someone with no experience try to drift with Lynch. Finding a new co-pilot for Blue would be a lot easier.”

“I know that, Gansey. You don’t need to tell me.”

Gansey fixes Adam with a strange look, the look he gives Adam sometimes like he’s an enigma or a puzzle he can never fully piece together no matter how many times he tries. Gansey is his friend before being his superior, has been one of his closest friends for the better part of a decade, but there are things he will never understand about Adam, things Adam doubts he could ever articulate into words and corners of his mind that will never be accessible to anyone outside the Drift. It’s relieving and maddening in equal measures, knowing Adam would only ever be truly _known_ by the two people whose minds have been linked with his.

“You know I wouldn’t ask this of you if I had any other choice, right?”

And suddenly Adam can’t look Gansey in the eye; doesn’t want to see the judgement and the disappointment he isn’t always so successful at concealing, doesn’t want to be confronted with how selfish Gansey and most everyone else thinks he’s being by putting his personal feelings before the future of humanity as they know it. Perhaps most of all, Adam doesn’t want to see the question that has been burning in everyone’s mind ever since Cabeswater has been put away to gather dust reflected in Gansey’s gaze, a question Adam himself isn’t sure he can answer.

_What happened between you two?_

When Adam looks back up at Gansey after a moment of silence, Gansey’s face is completely unreadable, and Adam tells himself it’s better than whatever it would have betrayed otherwise.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he says at last, more defensive than he intends. It’s a lie, of course, because Adam knows exactly what Gansey wants from him, but the sooner Gansey comes to terms with the fact that his two best friends are never co-piloting a Jaeger again, the sooner he would stop wasting his time on a broken bond Adam himself still has to tiptoe around the broken pieces left in its wake.

For a second, Adam almost thinks Gansey is going to let the facade slip and throw in Adam’s face all the things Adam knows he’s been biting down on for more than a year. Part of Adam morbidly wishes he would.

Instead, Gansey sighs and downs his cold coffee in one-go.

“Just think about it.”

**✫✫✫✫**

When Adam goes back to his room after training, he finds Blue waiting for him.

Sometimes Adam wonders if some of the effects of mind-melding extend beyond the Drift or if Blue and him are naturally able to read each other better than anyone else, because one look at her face is enough to tell Adam that Gansey has talked to her.

It does nothing to improve Adam’s sour mood.

“Calla told you not to overdo it with the training.”

“I’m fine,” Adam says mechanically, grabbing the cold water bottle she’s handing him with a grateful nod.

“She wants to look at your shoulder again.”

Adam hums vaguely and pulls his shirt off over his head, wincing at the faint ache in his shoulder. A few months ago, Adam would have felt awkward about undressing in front of Blue, but it quickly becomes evident to all parties involved that there is little point in trying to hide anything from someone who can share your most intimate thoughts as though they were their own. Modesty is a luxury Jaeger pilots cannot afford.

“I spoke to Gansey.”

He can feel her gaze on him, intent and considering. Adam doesn’t answer and hopes his lack of reaction will deter her from trying to have this conversation now. Adam needs a shower and at least one cup of coffee before he can stomach whatever Blue is about to spring on him.

He doesn’t expect what she says next.

“You should talk to Ronan.”

Adam stops in his tracks, blinking at her in disbelief. Blue stares right back at him, gaze firm and unwavering. Adam doesn’t remember the last time someone has uttered those words to him or mentioned that name so casually around him, either out of consideration for Adam or in fear of how he would react. Adam doesn’t usually take kindly to being handled delicately or to people walking on eggshells around him like they think he’s going to bolt at the wrong word, but he had been more than happy to make an exception in this case.

But Blue isn’t one to waste time beating around the bush once she’s made up her mind, and the realization that she agrees with Gansey makes something uncomfortably close to betrayal churn in Adam’s gut.

He pushes it down along with everything else he doesn’t have the energy to unpack.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Blue, but Lynch _won’t_ talk to me.”

The name feels like sandpaper on Adam’s tongue.

“Then force him to talk to you.”

Adam lets out an ugly noise somewhere between a snort and something a lot more miserable. “You can’t _force_ Lynch to do anything. And I don’t see why it should be up to me to fix this.”

Not that Adam is under any delusion that any of it can still be fixed.

Blue presses her lips into a thin line, pinning him down with a glare. Adam crosses his arms and stares at a point over her shoulder, stubbornly refusing to look at her. The sick feeling in his stomach grows tenfold.

And then she lets out a sigh, and when Adam looks at her again, her face has softened into barely contained worry. Blue’s concern always overrides her exasperation when it comes to Adam.

“I know this isn’t fair to you.”

Adam scowls at her.

“I understand how frustrating this is for you. Adam, you _know_ I do.”

“But you still think I should talk to him.”

“Because Gansey is _right._ This isn’t just about you and Lynch anymore. We can’t afford not to use a Jaeger in perfect fighting condition, not with two Jaegers out of commission, and you two are the only ones who can pilot it.”

“I don’t know how Gansey expects me to drift with someone who can barely stand looking at me. Hell, he can barely stand being in the same _room_.”

“Gansey will talk to him.”

“Like he’s been talking to him for the past year?”

His tone is more cutting than it has any right to be, but Adam doesn’t take it back. Adam knows none of this is Gansey’s fault; if anything, Adam should be grateful Gansey has been so accommodating for so long and has never pressed or forced either of them into a position they weren’t comfortable with despite extensive pressure from above. But Adam needs someone to be angry at, and his grip on his emotions is loose enough that he knows he’ll regret letting himself be angry at Ronan Lynch.

He almost wants Blue to snap at him so he can feel a little less like an asshole.

She just looks at him sadly instead.

Blue sighs again after a while. “He didn’t tell you the UN is exploring alternative solutions again, did he?”

Adam’s silence is answer enough.

He lays down next to her on the bed and puts his head on her lap. Blue takes his hand in hers without a word. Her hands are much smaller than his, much softer and more delicate. Sometimes Adam wonders what it would be like to hold her hand and feel something other than the unshakable trust and unbridled affection born from years of friendship and months of fitting neatly into each other’s heads. Falling for Blue would be easy, and Adam almost did all those years ago, but Adam always did have a habit of choosing the most difficult option.

“Sorry. You know I wouldn’t wish having to share a headspace with Ronan Lynch on anyone, let alone you.”

Adam smiles tightly, giving her hand a thankful squeeze. “Trust me, Blue, you don’t have to worry about that.”

**✫✫✫✫**

Adam is having breakfast with Gansey and Henry in the mess hall when Malory comes bursting in like a whirlwind, sits down at their table without so much as a greeting, and immediately starts rambling about _experiments_ and _Kaiju brains_ and _calculated risks_. None of it would be particularly unusual or noteworthy if Adam wasn’t positive he’d heard the words _drifting with a Kaiju_ come out of his mouth in that order.

Adam shoots Gansey a bewildered look, but Gansey merely sets down his fork and fixes Malory with a pointed glare. It’s clearly not the first time he’s hearing about this, if his lack of reaction is anything to go by.

“What the hell is he talking about?” Henry whispers in Adam’s ear. Adam shrugs minutely. It’s hard enough trying to keep up with Malory when it’s not seven in the morning and Adam actually has a clue what he’s talking about.

“Not now, Malory,” Gansey says evenly, cutting the old man off in the middle of a sentence. He’s using his authoritative voice, the one very few people in the Shatterdome can hope to resist or defy, and Adam shares a meaningful look with Henry because Gansey rarely ever uses that voice before noon.

Malory, completely unperturbed, catches his breath and starts again. “We’re running out of time, if we don’t act soon _—_ the brain _—_ ”

“Malory, _not now._ ”

Malory’s beady eyes dart around the room, seemingly taking notice of the curious glances he’s been attracting from the rest of the hall. He slouches back in his chair with a huff and lowers his voice a little, but the wild look in his gray eyes doesn’t falter. It reminds Adam rather disturbingly of a feral dog.

“You’re not listening to me.”

“We’ve talked about this, Malory. My decision is final.”

“You need to hear me out _—_ ”

“Malory, enough. Please.”

Malory purses his lips in distaste, forehead wrinkled up in a way that makes him look even older than he is. His jaw works frantically as he peers at Gansey and for a second Adam is certain he’s not going to let it go, but he just grumbles under his breath, glowers at all of them, and storms out of the mess hall in a flurry of muttered curses and angry strides.

“What the hell was that about?” Adam asks Gansey the second he’s out of the hall.

Right when Gansey opens his mouth to answer, a gruff voice drawls from behind him, “Isn’t he too old to be running around like that?”

Adam’s hand stills with his glass halfway to his mouth, question forgotten.

Before he can fight the impulse, he turns his head at the same time Gansey does.

Ronan Lynch’s gaze doesn’t linger on Adam for even a second as he looks from the door to Gansey, then to Henry, giving the latter a curt nod. His black shirt is slightly rumpled around the collar and there’s a beer bottle dangling precariously from his fingertips.

Adam makes himself breathe around the sudden, overwhelming tightness in his throat.

There’s a beat of uneasy silence before Gansey sighs tiredly and pinches the bridge of his nose, turning to face Henry. “Malory has a theory about drifting with a Kaiju brain.”

“That’s _insane,_ ” Henry says at the same time Adam’s hand relaxes around his cup. He belatedly remembers to take a sip and tastes nothing but the bile in the back of his throat.

There’s the telltale sound of a chair scraping against the floor as Ronan takes the empty seat next to Gansey. Adam vaguely registers the flash of surprise on Henry and Gansey’s faces before they slip back into carefully neutral expressions, neither of them looking in Adam’s direction.

The air is so thick with tension Adam could cut through it with a knife.

Adam puts down his glass, steels himself, and looks up from his plate.

Their eyes meet for exactly half a second before Ronan looks away, expression blank and eyes devoid of any emotion whatsoever. It’s like Adam isn’t there at all.

Henry is shooting Adam nervous glances in his peripheral vision, and Adam thinks it might be the only thing keeping him from doing something stupid like slamming his fist onto the table or throwing his glass against the wall.

Gansey is either too preoccupied or desperately pretending not to notice the shift in atmosphere, because all he does is look distastefully at Ronan’s choice of drink before turning his attention back to Henry. “That’s what I told him. He thinks it could provide us with key information about the Kaiju if all goes according to plan. Of course, I said I wouldn’t let him take such a risk. But you know how he _—_ ”

“I’ll see you later, Gansey,” Adam interrupts abruptly, rising from his chair almost fast enough to knock it over. The silence that falls over the table as Adam picks up his tray is almost unbearable. Adam can see the exact moment Gansey wrestles with himself before closing his mouth on a protest, shoulders slumping in defeat. There’s a fleeting moment when Adam almost wishes he had said something, but it’s gone faster than Adam can process it, and by the time Adam turns to leave, it’s clear no one is going to try to stop him.

Adam walks away without another word, the feeling of eyes on his back following him long after he leaves.

**✫✫✫✫**

_ Three years before _

_Initiating neural handshake._

Adam has never expected drifting to feel anything like this. Before he joined the Jaeger program, Adam had always thought of drifting as a necessary sacrifice, the final and most daunting hurdle in Adam’s path that he’d have to overcome one way or another if he wished to become a pilot. A part of him he had to give up in order to achieve what he wanted and gain some semblance of control over his life. It seemed like a fair trade, but Adam couldn’t possibly imagine how giving someone else direct insight into everything that was Adam with no barriers or walls could ever be anything less than an excruciating experience, something that filled Adam with dread every time he thought about it for too long. There were days before Adam turned eighteen, before he met Gansey and Ronan, when the prospect of having someone else inside his head wasn’t that much less unnerving than the prospect of facing a Kaiju outside of a Jaeger.

Instead, drifting with Ronan Lynch feels like the most natural thing in the world.

Adam exhales slowly as the barrage of images and sounds rushes through his head, his and Ronan’s thoughts merging and blurring together until Adam can no longer tell where Adam’s consciousness stops and where Ronan starts. With the ease of someone who has done this countless times before, Adam doesn’t focus too hard on any single memory, doesn’t try to fight any of his own. He catches glimpses of a round face with short blonde curls and an easy smile, Ronan’s baby brother who had visited him a few days before at the Shatterdome. Ronan’s fierce affection for him settles like a warm weight in Adam’s chest. He feels the smile tugging at Ronan’s mouth as the recent memory of catching Noah making out with one of the new recruits in the training room flashes through Adam’s mind, answers it with an amused grin of his own and knows Ronan can feel it on his lips.

After the battle—the category two is easy enough to deal with, more defensive than aggressive and sinking into the water shortly after they drive their blade through its back—they’re exhausted and sore and all Adam can think about is how good the scalding hot water of the shower is going to feel against his skin. He takes off his helmet in one fluid motion and draws in a steadying breath, running a hand through his damp hair and only listening with half an ear to Gansey and Malory’s muted conversation through the comm.

After changing out of their suits and exchanging a few words with Gansey in the control room, Adam makes his way to the infirmary with Ronan trailing a few steps behind him. Ronan doesn’t have to come to Adam’s follow-up appointments with Calla, but he’s made a point of attending every single one of them without fail. Adam isn’t sure whether Ronan wants to make sure Adam is actually making them—a legitimate concern, though Adam would never admit it to him—or if he simply enjoys watching Calla fuss at Adam until she’s blue in the face. Knowing Ronan, it’s probably a mix of both. As far as Adam is concerned, he’s perfectly fine and doesn’t need Calla to check on him weeks after the pain in his ribs has dulled to a manageable ache and Adam stopped feeling like he was being stabbed every time he so much as took a breath, but Adam has long since given up on the idea of winning a battle of wills against Calla Johnson.

They end up back in their room after a scathing lecture from Calla about how Adam needs to take his injuries more seriously _or else his ribs are never going to make a full recovery if Adam keeps overstraining them and_ _who told Adam he could go out into the field without checking with her first._ (Adam had grimaced and made eye contact with Ronan, who had just lifted a pointed eyebrow at him, entirely unhelpful. The ‘ _I told you so’_ was as clear as if he had said the words out loud.) When Adam comes back from his shower, Ronan is sprawled out on the bottom bunk and eating what looks like pistachio ice cream from a small container. Adam’s eyes linger on the exposed skin of his stomach where his shirt rides up a little, weirdly undeterred by the thought of Ronan catching him looking.

“Gross,” Adam comments, more to fill the easy silence than because of any interest he has in debating the merits of various ice cream flavors.

“I haven’t showered yet.”

“Ha. Where did you even find ice cream in a military base?”

“Noah is full of surprises.”

“The biggest surprise here is your appalling taste in ice cream.”

Ronan gets up from the bed, pushes Adam’s hair out of his face, and swipes an ice cream coated finger across his forehead.

“What the hell?” Adam shouts, slapping his hand away. Ronan smirks at him, entirely unrepentant. “I just took a shower, asshole.”

“You could take another one,” Ronan says easily, grabbing a change of clothes from his side of the closet. There’s something in his voice Adam can’t quite place, the punchline of a joke Adam isn’t privy to. Adam ignores it and throws a pillow at his face, missing only because Ronan’s reflexes are unparallelled among Jaeger pilots.

“Did you talk to the new kid?”

“Haven’t had the chance.”

“Right. Because you’re so busy when you’re not on a mission.”

“Get off my ass,” Ronan says without heat. “Did Gansey ask you to give him a tour?”

“Blue said she’s going to show him around.”

Ronan’s eye twitches at the mention of Blue. It’s gone in the blink of an eye and his bored expression gives nothing away, but Adam is familiar with every one of Ronan’s tics and tells. He also happens to know exactly how Ronan feels about Blue, has caught a whiff of the feelings Ronan harbors towards the recent addition to the Jaeger program _—_ only barely, but the flare of jealousy and bitterness Adam has picked up on when she had crossed Ronan’s mind for a brief second can’t be mistaken for anything else. He rolls his eyes, remembering how viciously Ronan had reacted to Adam’s own burgeoning friendship with Gansey back when they were teenagers and Ronan still had the excuse of being young and stupid. Adam would have thought Ronan would be over his visceral aversion to other people taking up Gansey’s attention by now.

Adam remembers the time he had called Blue pretty in her absence, partly because it was true and partly for the sheer pleasure of watching Gansey’s reaction as his face flickered through a myriad of emotions in record time before settling into something Adam could only describe as _smitten_. Gansey was undoubtedly _very_ taken with Blue. Adam had met Ronan’s gaze then, expecting to see the same amused smirk mirrored on his face, but Ronan was scowling at his food and pointedly not looking at either of them. Adam had just stared at him for a long second and thought with more than a hint of exasperation, _so this is how it’s going to be._

It is rather ironic that despite all of it Blue reminds Adam of Ronan in more ways than one.

“You could at least pretend to like her.”

“Who?” Ronan intones, not even bothering to make it sound like a real question.

Adam gives him an unimpressed look.

“I don’t have to like everyone Gansey likes.”

“Well, I like her,” Adam points out unnecessarily. He isn’t sure why he feels the need to defend someone he’s only known for a couple of weeks, but something about Ronan getting jealous over Gansey grates on his nerves more than it should, unsettles him in a way Adam can’t quite rationalize. Like most things Adam can’t make sense of and therefore doesn’t like to think about, he tucks it away in a far corner of his brain where he can pretend it doesn’t matter.

“I noticed,” Ronan growls, his bad mood worsening by the second.

Adam bites back the ‘ _Gansey can have close friends other than you’_ on the tip of his tongue _,_ because a fight with Ronan is the last thing he’s looking forward to at the moment, and because he knows Ronan is self-aware enough that he’ll keep his feelings to himself and will only be a jerk about it where neither Blue nor Gansey are present to call him out on it.

Instead, Adam tries to steer the conversation into safer territory.

“Think they’ll find a match for her?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Finding new recruits is a pain in the ass.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.”

“You know I was in your head fifty minutes ago, right? I know you don’t believe that.”

Ronan stills for a second, long enough for Adam to throw him a curious glance, but he recovers before Adam can make anything of it.

“Why don’t you try drifting with her if you like her so much,” Ronan deadpans, his back to Adam. It’s clearly a joke, but the mere thought of drifting with someone else makes Adam’s stomach twist uncomfortably, hits him with a deep sense of wrongness that probably bleeds into his expression in the split second before he can control it. He’s infinitely glad Ronan is facing away from him.

“You know they’ll never find someone else to drift with you, Lynch. I’m stuck with you for the sake of humanity’s survival.”

His tone is playful, the underlying fondness in his voice embarrassingly clear to his own ears. He’s a little surprised when Ronan doesn’t respond with a sarcastic jab of his own, doesn’t even seem to hear Adam as he rummages loudly through his toiletry bag. Adam shrugs it off and collapses onto his bed, throwing an arm over his face and shutting his eyes tight against the light. He doesn’t remember drifting off to sleep.

When he wakes up two hours later, Ronan is nowhere to be seen and there’s a small tub of vanilla ice cream waiting for Adam in the fridge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed this first chapter!  
> like i said this is a bit different from my usual works so i would appreciate if you could let me know what you think <3  
> updates will be as regular as i can manage :)


	2. Chapter 2

Malory corners Adam on his way to Gansey’s office three days later.

“I wanted to speak with you,” Malory says conspiratorially, pulling Adam aside. Adam vaguely contemplates the idea of making a break for it, but he has no choice but to follow him. 

“Is something the matter?” Adam asks politely, hoping against all odds that Malory will change his mind and let him go.

He has no such luck. “Gansey told you what we were discussing the other day in the mess hall.” 

It isn’t a question. Adam has no desire to get involved in whatever conflict is brewing between Malory and Gansey, but Malory starts again before Adam can cut him short.

“I need you to listen to me.”

“I’m not the one you need to convince, Malory.”

“I need you to help me convince Gansey,” Malory says, straight to the point. Adam appreciates that he’s at least not wasting both of their times beating around the bush. 

“What makes you think I don’t agree with him?” Adam asks flatly, already feeling a headache forming. 

Malory licks his lips and stares Adam down. “You’re smarter than most people here, Parrish.” 

Adam opens his mouth, but Malory goes on before he can interrupt him. “We’re losing the war. We need to find out more about the Kaiju. It’s the only way we can ever hope to have the upper hand. This is risky, but it could provide us with invaluable information about the enemy. I know you can see the logic behind this and that if there’s even the smallest chance that this could work, we can’t afford not to take it.”

Malory levels Adam with a sharp stare, like he’s challenging Adam to deny it. 

It’s a few minutes before Adam speaks again. “Even if you were right,” Adam says carefully, refusing to give his ground. “I know Gansey. He’s not going to budge on this.”

“I think he’s more likely to listen to you.”

“You’re overestimating my influence on him.”

Malory makes a dismissive noise. “If it doesn’t work, then he can’t say I didn’t try hard enough.” 

Adam gives him a blank stare. “You’re going to do it whether Gansey agrees or not.”

Malory’s expression turns grim.

“I can’t do it alone,” Malory admits reluctantly after a few seconds, pursing his lips in displeasure. The _‘I would’ve done it already if I could’_ goes unspoken, but Adam can hear it all the same. This wouldn’t be the first time Malory broke the rules and went against Gansey’s orders, but it would certainly be his worst transgression. “I need to oversee the operation and shut down the drift if things go awry.”

“You’re going to ask _someone else_ to do it?” 

“It obviously needs to be someone trustworthy and experienced enough to be able to handle whatever potential side effects to the best of their abilities,” Malory rattles on without missing a beat. The way he’s avoiding Adam’s gaze feels very pointed. It takes unusually long for Adam to register where this is going. 

Adam almost lets out an incredulous laugh. “You want _me_ to volunteer to be the first person to drift with a Kaiju?”

“I’m asking you to consider it,” Malory amends, unperturbed.

“You’re asking me to consider _connecting my mind with a Kaiju brain.”_

“You already risk your life every time you go up against a Kaiju. Is this really any different?” 

“You know Gansey will never agree. You’re asking me to do it behind his back.”

Malory holds his gaze without blinking. It’s as much of a confession as Adam is going to get. 

Adam should tell Malory to forget it. He should tell him that this is an insane idea, that Adam isn’t going to risk his life—more than he already does on a daily basis—for an experiment that is more likely to fail than to succeed and the side effects of which no one can predict. He should tell him that he’ll talk to Gansey, knowing full well that there’s no way Gansey would ever allow it. Gansey makes it clear he doesn’t think any single human life should be sacrificed for the greater good if there is another option. 

Adam never had the same reservations.

Adam swallows back the words on the tip of his tongue. “What happens if things go south?”

“You’re not going to die,” Malory affirms immediately. Adam isn’t reassured by the fact that his mind immediately jumped to that possibility. He’s not sure how Malory can afford to sound so confident when there’s realistically no way for him to know for certain, either. “I don’t know what could happen, but I’m positive it wouldn’t kill you.”

“That’s all I needed to hear,” Adam says wryly. Either the sarcasm is lost on Malory, or he doesn’t bother to dignify it with an answer. 

“I need your answer now. The brain isn’t going to be viable for much longer.” 

“You can’t just spring this on me and expect me to decide on the spot.”

Malory gives him an apologetic look but doesn’t yield.

Adam knows he should say no. He knows the whole thing is stupidly dangerous, and that Gansey will never forgive him if things go wrong. He knows his life is too precious as one of the only active pilots, and he knows the chances of it working are slim enough that Adam is more likely to end up with a melted brain than with any useful information about the Kaiju.

But if Malory is right, and if there’s even the smallest chance that this could work—it would be the biggest breakthrough they’ve made in years. Possibly ever. If they can find out anything about the Kaiju—information to use to their advantage, anything that would help them figure out a way to defeat them—it would be well worth the sacrifice. 

Adam thinks about it, thinks about how long they’ve been fighting this war with no end in sight, thinks about the heavy bags under Gansey’s, thinks about Blue’s smaller hand in his, and comes to a decision.

He just hopes he won’t have to pay too high a price. 

  
  


**✫✫✫✫**

Adam doesn’t think he’ll ever forget what it feels like.

There’s a numbness spreading through him as soon as Malory hooks him up, and then he feels it— _something_ clawing at his mind. Adam recoils, every instinct in his body telling him to run, but there’s nowhere to hide. The presence—so unnatural, so _wrong_ —feels almost hesitant at first, like it’s testing the waters of Adam’s mind, but then it comes to him and Adam feels like he’s drowning.

A whirlwind of light and sound is flashing through his head, but Adam can’t make sense of any of it. Everything looks so foreign, yet so strangely familiar. Adam reaches out blindly, going against everything in him telling him to retreat. He doesn’t know how long he wades through the jumbled mess of images and noise, only that the threads keep disappearing just as Adam thinks he’s got a hold of them. 

Adam almost gives up, but then he _sees_ _it_ —He almost has it—he won’t let it slip through his fingers this time—

A bolt of electricity pulses through his entire body, and then Adam feels himself slip onto the ground. Somebody screams, but Adam barely hears it. His lungs are burning, and the ringing in his ears is _so_ loud his head is splitting open, and Adam thinks he’s going to die.

He’s vaguely aware of running footsteps behind him, but Adam can’t think past the cold panic flooding his veins. He’s seizing, and there’s someone holding his head in a death grip, an achingly familiar face, and he can feel himself slipping further away—

“Adam. _Adam!”_

He blacks out.

  
  
**✫✫✫✫**

When Adam comes to, Calla’s face is the first thing he sees.

“Welcome back among the living,” Calla says dryly. Her tone is too neutral for Adam to read anything into it.

Adam expects to get the tongue-lashing of his life, but Calla merely lets out a sigh and slides onto the chair next to his bed. Adam tries to push himself up, ignoring the dull pain in his bad shoulder.

“How did he rope you into this?” Calla asks after a few beats. Adam doesn’t reply, and Calla just pinches the bridge of her nose and holds up a hand. “Actually, don’t answer that.”

“I’m feeling alright,” Adam says. It comes off a bit defensive. Calla doesn’t rise to the bait. 

“You had a seizure. Pretty bad one.”

Adam nods. Calla gives him a long, hard look before crossing her arms over her chest. 

“He brought you here an hour ago. You were bleeding from your ears and nose. Blue almost had a heart attack.”

“Malory carried me all the way here?” Adam asks absently. He really does feel fine, but the feeling of drowning is still fresh in his mind. He wonders how long it will take for it to fade, if ever.

“Not Malory.”

Adam almost asks, but the door swings open before he can. Blue and Gansey spill into the room, and Adam almost shrinks back at the look Blue gives him the second her eyes find him. Her expression quickly morphs into relief, though, and she runs to grab his hand so fast it gives Adam whiplash.

“You absolute idiot,” Blue breathes out. Adam opens his mouth to defend himself, but he thinks better of it. Better let her get it out of her system now.

“Are you okay?” Blue asks instead of whatever choice words she clearly wants to hurl at him. She takes a deep breath, like it’s taking a lot out of her to be nice to Adam right now. Adam puts on his most convincing face, swallowing around his dry throat.

“Yes. I’m fine.”

“What were you thinking?” Blue mutters. She sounds frustrated and hurt, and Adam wishes for the first time he could take it back so she wouldn’t look at him like that.

He doesn’t dare look at Gansey yet.

“Do we have to do this now?”

Blue looks flabbergasted. “Like _hell_ we don’t. You just—Do you have any idea how dangerous—”

“He said it wouldn’t kill me—”

“That’s not the point—”

“I’m not stupid—” 

“You’re sure acting like it!”

“I made a choice—”

“You didn’t even _talk_ to me about—”

“Stop.”

They both stop short, glaring at each other. Gansey opens his mouth to speak again, and Adam can’t stand it anymore. 

“Don’t.”

“Adam—”

“I’m sorry,” Adam blurts out. It comes out flat, like he doesn’t really mean it. He’s not sure how to make it sound like he does. When he meets Gansey’s gaze, the betrayal is unmistakable under the concern. Adam doesn’t want to deal with it. “I’m sorry, okay? Just. Not now. Please. I don’t want to fight.” 

Gansey and Blue look at him, then at each other. Some kind of understanding passes between them, and Gansey presses his lips together without a word. Blue is still scowling, but she crosses her arms and keeps her mouth shut.

Something occurs to Adam. “Where’s Malory?”

“I had a talk with him,” Gansey says. The anger in his voice is barely contained. Adam winces. “This is my fault. I should’ve—“

“Can you not?” Adam cuts him off. His head throbs with familiar irritation. The last thing Adam needs right now is Gansey shouldering the responsibility for Adam’s decision, as though Adam’s fuckups are somehow his own.

“Did it work?” Blue asks after a beat. It takes a few seconds for Adam to understand what she’s talking about. 

“I don’t think so,” Adam dejectedly. “I saw—things, but I don’t know—I’m not sure they make any kind of sense.”

To his credit, Gansey doesn’t look disappointed. “The important thing is that you’re fine. You were out of it for almost an hour. Henry was really freaked out when he came to get me. Even—”

“We were all really worried,” Blue interrupts him. Adam lifts an eyebrow at her, but Blue doesn’t even look at him.

“Did Malory pull the plug?”

“He did when you started seizing. He was quite upset when I talked to him. Of course, he should’ve put a stop to it sooner. I thought he was going to get thrown out the Shatterdome by—”

Blue elbows him, hard. Adam wonders if his friends think Adam is blind.

“What is it?” Adam asks pointedly. Blue and Gansey share a look, which only serves to annoy Adam even more.

“Nothing,” Blue says quickly. Adam looks at Gansey, because he’s the one most likely to spill the beans under pressure.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Gansey says without missing a beat. Blue and Adam give him similar unimpressed looks. He’s clearly trying to weasel out of the conversation, but Adam is fairly confident he can get the truth out of Blue anyway. “I have some business to attend to. Is he staying the night?” Gansey asks in Calla’s direction, and only then does Adam remember they’re not alone in the room.

“He doesn’t need to,” Calla says.

Calla follows Gansey out of the room after giving Adam an ominous look. Blue gets Adam a glass of water, studiously ignoring Adam’s gaze.

“Are you going to tell me what it is you guys are tiptoeing around?”

Blue bites her lip, sitting on the edge of the bed. “It’s nothing. You should rest.”

Adam raises an unimpressed brow at her. “Tell me anyway.”

Blue holds his gaze for a few seconds before blowing out a frustrated sigh. “Ronan brought you here.”

Adam’s blood runs cold. “He _what_?”

“Don’t flip out, okay? He was around the Lab when he heard Malory scream for help. You gave that old man quite a scare, you know? I don’t think he was expecting this to happen.” She makes a pause and glances at Adam. Adam curls his fists into the sheets. “Ronan was… He kind of freaked out.”

“Did he,” Adam bites out. There’s not enough air in the room for the two of them. 

Blue goes on stubbornly. “He put the fear of God in Malory. Henry had to hold him back.” She stops and licks her lips, giving Adam a tentative look. It almost looks imploring. “Adam… I don’t know what’s going on with him, but I’ve never seen him so scared since—”

“Blue,” Adam says warningly.

“You _asked.”_

“And you told me. Thanks. Now can we please talk about something else?” He’s aware that he sounds like a dick, but he doesn’t care. His mind is whirling with too many thoughts, confusion and anger and something Adam doesn’t want to put a name on churning in his stomach, and Adam isn’t equipped to deal with any of it right now. 

Blue purses her lips but mercifully lets it go. She’s quiet for a moment before she asks, “Are you really okay?” 

“I am.”

“Don’t think I’ve forgiven you for doing this behind my back.”

“Blue—”

“Let’s not talk about it now,” Blue interjects before he can say anything. Adam sags a little in relief. There’s a moment of silence, and then Blue shoots Adam a hesitant look. “You know, I felt it.”

Adam gives her a quizzical look.

“I knew something was happening to you,” Blue explains just as it sinks in for Adam. Adam opens his mouth and closes it again, an uneasy knot forming in his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Adam says after a beat. This time, he sounds like he means it.

“That’s not why you should be sorry,” Blue says simply. Adam takes her hand and squeezes it, and as she squeezes his hand back, Adam thinks he’ll be okay as long as he has this. He doesn’t have to wallow in his failure alone, and he certainly doesn’t have to think about Ronan Lynch. He’s wasted too much time doing just that with nothing to show for it but a hollow space in his chest and more questions than he started with, and Adam will be damned if he makes that same mistake again.

**✫✫✫✫**

_16 months before_

It’s a rainy day when Greenmantle attacks.

He wonders, for months, all the things he would’ve done differently if he had known it would be their last time. Wonders how things would’ve played out if he had made different decisions, if anything he could’ve said would have turned the tide. He wonders what had pushed him over the edge—maybe it was Adam snapping at him about the raven, maybe it was the shouting match the week before or the way Adam had hesitated for a second too long when Gansey had asked if they were okay. Maybe it was something else entirely. 

No matter what, he can’t figure it out.

The category four is defeated after hours of brutal struggle. It’s their hardest fight yet. It ends with both of them having to be transported to the only hospital still standing in LA, because the Shatterdome’s infirmary is ill-equipped to handle the extent of the damage.

Adam spends the first night replaying the fight in his head, going over every successful strike and every miscalculated move. He wonders exactly which series of wrong choices had led to this outcome. He thinks about all the ways they could’ve turned the tables, everything they could’ve done to stack the odds in their favor. He thinks about how much worse it could’ve been, too, but he can’t stand to dwell on it for too long.

He spends the next few nights thinking about Ronan.

Adam is familiar with terror, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget that split second when he thought he was going to lose him.

He trails his fingers over the new scar on his leg, and thanks every higher power he can think of. Adam isn’t a man of faith, but he needs somewhere to direct his overwhelming gratitude at the fact that they’re both still _there._

Ronan’s injuries are worse than his, but they’re both lucky they came out of it alive. The words are on everyone’s lips, gracing every newspaper headline. Adam is sick of hearing them, but he grits his teeth and nods gratefully through it all. Gansey comes by whenever he can, and Blue doesn’t leave his side as soon as he’s cleared for visits. They awkwardly tell him Ronan has been moved to a different unit when he asks to see him, and Adam believes them because he has no reason not to.

It’s not until Adam is discharged from the hospital, not until he tries to talk to him and is met with curt replies that descend into icy silences, not until Gansey tells him that Ronan doesn’t wish to pilot anymore, that Adam realizes that something is irrevocably broken and that he has no idea what he’d done to cause it. He has even less of an idea what he could do to fix it, and as time goes by Adam starts wondering if something hadn’t already come undone a long time ago and Adam had just been too blind to see it.

  
  


**✫✫✫✫**

Gansey asks him to assist with the selection process.

Adam is reasonably sure it’s at least partly a ploy to get Adam near Cabeswater again in the off-chance that he’ll realize no one else is better suited to pilot the Jaeger, but it’s not a good enough reason to turn him down.

Most of the candidates are young, some probably barely old enough to be cadets. It makes Adam feel decades older than he is. They all had excellent simulator scores when tested individually, but no one knows how well they can work together. Adam thinks trying to find the perfect pair among them is like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

“The only previously tested pair doesn’t have a strong enough drift to move the Jaeger,” Gansey explains. He looks determined to get the job done, but it’s obvious he doesn’t expect this to be a piece of cake.

“It’ll take weeks to find a compatible pair,” Adam says aimlessly. Drifting with someone for the first time can be traumatic; Adam can’t imagine Gansey putting the same person through it multiple times in one day. Gansey doesn’t answer, merely fiddles with the papers in his hands and calls for the J-Tech.

Cabeswater stands in front of them in all its unchanged glory. It feels like an eternity since Adam had sat inside that cockpit. Now, he watches the potential candidates step inside the Jaeger and prepare themselves for the neural handshake, their expressions ranging from excited to utterly terrified. Part of Adam is telling him this is pointless. He doesn’t know how much of it is true and how much of it is the visceral stab of possessiveness at the thought of someone else piloting Cabeswater.

Predictably, the first day of testing doesn’t yield any results. Most of the pairs can’t initiate a neural handshake at all, and two of them immediately start chasing the rabbit. Adam can tell Gansey is trying not to look frustrated, but his jaw is set in a hard line when he calls it off for the day. Adam wants to tell him they’ll have better luck tomorrow, but he’s not sure Gansey wants to hear it from him. He’s not sure he believes it either.

One of the kids looks at Adam strangely when he leaves the room. Adam doesn’t know why until the same kid ambushes him in the mess hall a moment later, his bright eyes scanning Adam up and down. He can’t be older than nineteen, his red curls framing his face a little childishly. He reminds Adam vaguely of someone, but Adam quickly shuts down that train of thought.

“Can I help you?” Adam asks flatly. He came here for a cup of coffee before training, and he’s not particularly in the mood for small talk or whatever else this kid wants from him.

The kid doesn’t seem to be in any rush to speak. He’s looking at Adam like he wants to commit his face to memory, and Adam’s patience runs out after a few beats.

“I’m quite busy. If you don’t mind—“

“You’re Adam Parrish,” the kid blurts out. Adam levels him with a blank gaze. He forgets sometimes they’re basically celebrities to the outside world, or as Gansey likes to call them, _public_ _heroes_. They used to laugh about it, but now all it brings Adam is a deep sense of exhaustion mixed with shame.

Any other day, Adam could have humored him, but it’s been less than seventy two hours since Adam has tried to drift with a Kaiju brain, and Gansey is still barely talking to him, and Adam has been feeling weirdly untethered ever since he’s had that thing in his head.

The kid seems unperturbed by Adam’s silence. “You’re kind of a legend, you know. Everyone in the academy talked about you. I’m glad they were wrong about your leg.” Adam doesn’t even ask. The kid twists his fingers anxiously, looking down at his shoes. Adam licks his lips and holds back a sigh. “l know this sounds cheesy, but I wanted to become a pilot because of you.”

“I appreciate that,” Adam says mildly. Adam isn’t sure how he feels about inspiring someone to throw their life away to fight a war none of them are likely to see the end of. It certainly doesn’t feel as great as the kid seems to think it does.

“I can’t believe I could be piloting Cabeswater soon. I know it’s a long shot, but just the fact that I’m going to be inside your Jaeger—It’s kind of crazy.”

 _Not_ _my Jaeger anymore,_ Adam thinks bitterly. He doesn’t correct him.

The kid goes on, entirely oblivious to the way Adam tensed a little. “My brother is a cadet too, but he didn’t make the selection. This is a bit embarrassing, but I was wondering… I was wondering if you could…” He trails off suddenly, staring at a point over Adam’s shoulder. “Ah, that’s—”

He glances nervously behind him, and Adam turns his head just in time to see Ronan Lynch staring right at them. 

It takes Adam a second to pull himself together. He exhales roughly through his nose and turns back to the boy in front of him, mentally counting the seconds. The kid blanches a little at his expression, but Adam doesn’t have it in him to feel bad.

“Good luck,” Adam says briskly. He’s suddenly keenly aware of steely eyes digging holes into his back. He can’t get out of the mess hall fast enough. 

“Luke,” The kid says hopefully.

“What?” Adam asks. His ears are ringing so loud he’s not sure he’s heard him right.

“My name is Luke.”

“Good luck, Luke,” Adam says, sparing him a tight smile. Luke beams at him like it’s the best thing anyone has said to him all year, and Adam doesn’t think about empty eyes staring at him until he’s so exhausted from training he can’t stand on his feet.

(Adam thinks it’s a miracle Luke didn’t ask him why he wasn’t piloting Cabeswater anymore before he wonders if it’s also common knowledge Adam’s co-pilot ditched him like a toy he didn’t want to play with anymore. The thought fills Adam with so much rage he can’t sleep all night despite the fatigue seeping into his bones.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the feedback on the first chapter! hope you liked this one as well <3


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